


Sherlock December Ficlets 2017: Bundled Up

by PoppyAlexander



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Banter, Bickering, Dialogue-Only, Domestic Fluff, Ficlet, Fluff, Gratuitous Reference to That Time Aidan Turner Got His Kit Off in Poldark, Heat's Out Again!, M/M, Multi, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Polyamory, Sherlock December Ficlets 2017, These Three Idiots, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-23 08:17:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13186068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoppyAlexander/pseuds/PoppyAlexander
Summary: Heat's out again at 221B! John, Greg, and Sherlock make the best of it under the duvets on the sofa.





	Sherlock December Ficlets 2017: Bundled Up

“Sherlock, you make the tea.”

“Don’t I always?”

“It’s just that you do it so perfectly, Poppet.”

“Don’t stroke him, Greg; he’s already bordering on insufferable.”

“Stroke me all you like, Greg; John’s just envious of my skill.”

“It’s true it seems a bit judgmental, coming from one who never, _ever_ makes the tea.”

“Well, this is a lot of a fun. I’ll get some blankets.”

“Aw, now, don’t—”

“John, honestly.”

“Reckon he’s actually peeved?”

“He should know by now the entire dynamic among us is almost inevitably going to be two-on-one.”

“Yeah, but. Were we ganging up on him a bit there?”

“We’ll make it up.”

“You want a cardigan? Slippers?”

“Nope. I’m just as I like to be.”

“He’s after sitting between us like the prize tabby.”

“Have you seen my jumper, the one with the—like this—and that thing up here?”

“Middle shelf in the wardrobe.”

“How do you know he wants to sit between us?”

“Heat’s out. You and I are in here layering up on Henleys and cashmere socks—”

“He’ll complain you’ve stretched them, by the way.”

“Let him complain—bundling ourselves up for an Alpine trek. Fetching blankets and beanies.”

“I’m not wearing a beanie.”

“Give it here, then. No the West Ham one. Thanks. And he’s barefoot in a t-shirt and his jim-jam trousers. Deduce it, mate.”

“Don’t call me ‘mate,’ mate.”

“Sorry. Deduce it, Watson.”

“Much better. You’re right of course. Do we mind it though?”

“I don’t.”

“Nor me. Well, then. Blankets. Grab my pillow will you? For my back.”

“Splendid idea; I’m stealing it.”

“Why are you lingering? If there’s about to be sex, I demand an invitation!”

“We’re coming, hold on to your hair. Here, Watson, give us a kiss.”

“Happy to.”

“ _Mm_.”

“Rendezvous point, immediately, or I’m putting salt in one of these.”

“How does he always know?”

“We’re always at it, Watson. Are you new?”

“Better smooth his feathers or we’ll both be in the doghouse.”

“Ah, there they are—the two Arctic explorers kitted up for a night at altitude.”

“You can’t pretend not to feel the cold, Sherlock.”

“I don’t feel it. Here. And you.”

“Which has the salt?”

“Neither, you came in just under the wire.”

“Aw’right, fellas, settle in, let’s share some body heat. Poppet, you want the middle?”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not. What you are is crafty.”

“I thought I was insufferable.”

“Just put your arse down there on the sofa before I warm my hand smacking it.”

“Promises, promises. This one’s my favourite; I can make a pouch for our feet.”

“There, does that reach?”

“Oi, blanket-thief! Bad enough in the bed but right here in front of my eyes.”

“Get closer. Move your elbows. It’s like putting an octopus in a shopping bag. No. Just. Sit still and let me. Greg, grab this.”

“I can feel how cold your feet are through my socks, Poppet, for crissakes!”

“Those are not _your_ socks. Pass my cup. Where is the thing?”

“Which?”

“The thing for the thing. For the thing!”

“He means the remote. It’s right here.”

“I hear Ross Poldark gets his kit off in this one.”

“Excellent.”

“Fantastic.”

“Kiss.”

“Aw.”

“And you. Kiss.”

“Tea’s lovely, Sherlock.”

“Thank you, John.”

“Sure you’re warm enough?”

“I’ll get there.”

“Let me rub your hands.”

“Bony shoulder.”

“You love it.”

“Shh. It’s starting.”


End file.
